


get over it

by alotofthingsdifferent



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: College AU, First Kiss, M/M, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 02:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6311419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alotofthingsdifferent/pseuds/alotofthingsdifferent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“C’mon, Alex, it’s been a <i>month</i>,” Nail says as he tugs a clean tshirt on over his head. He’s running a palmful of gel through his hair, looking at Alex in the reflection of the mirror.  “You can’t just sit here forever, you’re going to start growing roots.”</p><p>Alex scoffs, because that’s not even fair. “I leave the apartment,” he snaps, and Nail gives him a judgemental look over his shoulder.</p><p>“Going to class does not count,” he says, and holds a hand up before Alex can protest. “C’mon, bud, you know what I mean. When was the last time you even shaved? You have to get <i>out</i>.”</p><p>Or: Breakups suck, and Alex needs to get over it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	get over it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [torigates](https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/gifts).



> For the beautiful, talented Tori, who is an utter delight and someone I am proud (and lucky!) to call my friend. Happy, happy birthday, my dear! This is silly and cheesy and I hope you love it. <3
> 
> Big thanks to bluejayys for looking this over for me since she's a pro at writing Gallys and this is my first time!

Breakups suck.

Breakups _suck_ , but Alex most definitely is not _moping_ , thank you very much, Nail, it’s just -- well. He’d been with Jacob for a while, longer than any other relationship he’s had, and he’s pretty sure he was in love. 

His first mistake was telling Jacob that, apparently, because as soon as he said the words, Jacob’s face had fallen, sending Alex’s stomach plummeting to his toes.

“Aw, Alex, babe, I’m not --” He’d sighed softly, and touched the side of Alex’s face, and Alex knew what was coming next. “You’re so great, I’m having so much fun with you, but I’m just. Not there. I don’t think -- this isn’t forever, y’know?”

Alex had just nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth, and let Jacob hug him tight, press a sloppy kiss to his cheek, and tell him they’d always be friends.

“C’mon, Alex, it’s been a _month_ ,” Nail says as he tugs a clean tshirt on over his head. He’s running a palmful of gel through his hair, looking at Alex in the reflection of the mirror. “You can’t just sit here forever, you’re going to start growing roots.”

Alex scoffs, because that’s not even fair. “I leave the apartment,” he snaps, and Nail gives him a judgemental look over his shoulder.

“Going to class does not count,” he says, and holds a hand up before Alex can protest. “C’mon, bud, you know what I mean. When was the last time you even shaved? You have to get _out_.”

Alex rubs his hand over his jaw and grumbles something about how beards are “in,” but deep down, he knows Nail is right. Sitting around pining over someone who’s never going to love him back is pointless. 

“Fine,” he says, and ignores the triumphant grin on Nail’s face. “But you can’t make me enjoy it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Nail says, still smiling, and manhandles Alex out the door.

**  
An hour later, he’s chugged three solo cups full of cheap keg beer and tucked himself into the corner of one of the lumpy couches in the basement of whatever frat Nail’d dragged them to. He has one arm tucked around his middle protectively, the other holding his cup under his nose. He tips it back every few minutes, ignoring the way the foamy beer is probably sticking to his upper lip.

There’s a few guys down here playing pool and a small group of people dancing badly to the too-loud music blaring from the stereo. A guy Alex vaguely recognizes from one of his classes is whispering in the ear of a girl with a messy bun on top of her head; her long, thin fingers look tiny where they’re curled around his bicep, and Alex hates this fucking party.

He hates it even more when a random guy lands next to him on the couch with an “oof”, spilling half of a warm beer all over the both of them. To make things worse, apparently the guy thinks the whole thing is _hilarious_. No matter how much Alex scowls at him, the guy will not. Stop. Giggling.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says through his laughter, pawing at the wet spot on Alex’s shirt. “I’m not that drunk, I swear, I just tripped, I’ve only had like three beers.”

Alex shoves him away, annoyed. “Whatever, man, get off me,” he say snippily, and the guy sits up a little, plucking his upended cup from Alex’s lap.

“Sorry,” he repeats, and when Alex takes the time to actually look at him, he softens a little. The guy has a pretty great smile, crooked on one side, and he’s currently aiming it right in Alex’s direction. The brim of his hat is casting a shadow over his eyes, and Alex isn’t a betting man, but he’d put a pretty hefty wager on this guy being really nice to look at.

“It’s fine,” he says, still gritting his teeth. 

“I’m Brendan,” the guy says, shoving his hand at Alex, still smiling. 

“Uh,” Alex says, and slides his free hand into Brendan’s grip. “Alex.” 

“What the fuck are you over here moping about, man?” Brendan asks, and Alex snatches his hand away, irritated. “Parties are supposed to be _fun_.”

“Yeah,” Alex says blandly. “I love getting warm beer spilled all over me by some random asshole who can’t stay on his feet.”

Brendan’s smile fades, and Alex feels a sudden, unexpected flash of guilt. “I’m not an asshole,” he says, “but thanks for the quick judgement.” Brendan makes a move to get up, and for reasons he will never be able to understand, Alex wraps his fingers around Brendan’s wrist to stop him.

“Wait,” he says, and Brendan hovers there for a long moment before sitting back down, sinking into the cushion next to Alex. “Sorry, that was dumb of me to say.”

Brendan looks like he’s fighting a smile; Alex wishes he didn’t find it so goddamn attractive. The guy might be good-looking, but a random hookup is honestly the last thing Alex wants right now. It’d feel way too much like a rebound, and that’s just not his thing.

“So what’s with the attitude, then?” Brendan asks, and he leans back easily, like he’s planning on hanging around. 

Alex shrugs one shoulder and takes another sip of his now-warm beer. “Don’t really wanna be here,” he says, and Brendan tilts his head. He turns toward Alex and tucks one leg up underneath him, then reaches up with both hands to flip his hat backwards. Alex blinks and hopes his eyes aren’t bugging out of his head like a cartoon character -- Brendan is _hot_.

“Who’s making you be?” Brendan asks, and he’s smiling again, his whole face lit up with it. 

Alex’s phone chooses that moment to buzz against his thigh where he has it tucked in his pocket, and he holds up one finger before fishing it out and swiping over his lock screen. “Motherfucker,” he says under his breath. How convenient, he thinks, that the person making him be here isn’t even _here_ anymore. 

“You okay?” Brendan asks, and Alex nods, though he’s sure his scowl isn’t winning him any points here. 

“My friend dragged me here and then ditched me,” he says, holding up his phone for Brendan to see. 

_don’t b mad, i bounced, see u tomorrow_ is what it reads, and Brendan sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Harsh, man. Sorry.”

“Whatever,” Alex grumbles, and shoves his phone in his pocket before downing the rest of his beer and crushing the cup in his hand. He misses by a foot when he tries to toss it into a nearby trash can, and he turns a surprised glance at Brendan when he pats him on the shoulder. 

“My buddies ditched too,” he says, “but I was having fun, so I stayed.” 

Before Alex can decide what he can say to keep this conversation going, he catches a glimpse of a familiar face across the room, and his stomach lurches when Jacob flashes his perfect smile at whatever guy he’s hitting on at the moment. Alex watches the way Jacob’s fingers touch the guy’s wrist, the same way he’d touched Alex the night they met, and that’s it, fuck this party. He’s out of here.

He manages to wriggle himself from where he’s sunken into the too-soft couch cushions and stands up, ignoring the way Brendan’s saying his name, questioning.

“Wait,” Brendan’s saying, and Alex huffs an annoyed breath and turns over his shoulder. 

“I gotta go,” Alex says. His buddy left him, his shirt is wet, and his ex is ten feet away hitting on someone else. The last thing Alex wants is to see Jacob with his tongue down some guy’s throat, and every second he spends standing here, talking to Brendan, gets him closer to that moment. “My ex is over there, I can’t -- I gotta go.”

He hurries across the room, pushing through the group of people dancing, and he’s six steps from the stairs when someone calls his name.

Loudly.

He stops in his tracks and hangs his head, screwing his eyes shut. He can tell people are looking at him, he can _feel_ it, and there’s no way Jacob isn’t one of them.

When he turns, he sees Brendan sitting on the couch, grinning at him. When he winks, Alex raises his eyebrows, and when he stands up, Alex’s heart rate kicks up. He could leave, right now. He _should_ , this is ridiculous, what is this guy even _doing_.

But something in the way Brendan’s looking at him, all cocky grin and gleam in his eye, keeps Alex’s feet firmly planted. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until Brendan is standing in front of him, so close the toes of their shoes are touching. This close up, Alex can’t help but notice how long Brendan’s eyelashes are; he can hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. 

“You forgot something,” Brendan says, and Alex frowns, confused. He opens his mouth to ask what the hell Brendan’s talking about, but before he can get the words out, Brendan’s curling his hand into the collar of Alex’s shirt and pulling him in. 

Brendan’s mouth is warm and soft where it’s pressed against Alex’s, and his breath is hot on Alex’s lips when he pulls back just enough to whisper, “This is the part where you kiss me back.”

Alex makes a quiet, whimpering sound and opens his mouth under Brendan’s, angling his head so their mouths slot together perfectly. Brendan’s hands come up to frame his face, one thumb stroking over Alex’s cheekbone, and Alex goes hot all over, his own hands scrabbling to Brendan’s waist, pulling him closer. 

It’s only when Alex hears wolf-whistles around them that they break the kiss. Their foreheads are touching, and Alex’s eyes are still closed when Brendan asks, “You gonna give me your number?”

He laughs, surprised by his own giddiness. “I don’t really do hookups,” Alex admits, but he takes Brendan’s phone anyway, adding himself to Brendan’s contacts. 

“Good,” Brendan says, and kisses him again, a quick brush of his lips over Alex’s mouth. “Because I already have plans for our first three dates.”

Alex laughs again. He feels light and happy, and for the first time since Jacob broke up with him, the world doesn’t feel so crappy.

Their eyes meet on Alex’s way out, and Jacob nods once, but doesn’t smile. Alex surprises himself, not for the first time tonight -- he doesn’t feel anything.

His phone buzzes in his pocket on the walk home, a text from an unknown number.

_not bad for a first kiss, but i can do better. Tomorrow night?_

Alex reads and rereads the text, smiling goofily at his phone. 

Breakups suck, he thinks, but finding someone to help you get over it? Yeah, that part he can handle.


End file.
